


The Longest Distance

by Tiduspoorpants



Category: Black Veil Brides, Palaye Royale (Band)
Genre: Anonymous Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-05-31 18:42:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15125576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiduspoorpants/pseuds/Tiduspoorpants
Summary: The stress of tour is really weighing heavily on Remington; After months away from his girlfriend he is feeling tense and withdrawn and god damn does he just need a quick fuck to get his head straight. He finally gets the courage to ask his girlfriend if he could have some no strings attached sex on tour while they are apart.This is the story of what happens when Remington installs a certain dating app and finds himself what he thinks is the perfect quick fuck to tide him over until they are back in California.Mature for sexual themes. Sex scenes later in the story.





	1. Best friends with my left hand

_London, Berlin, Paris, Phoenix, New York, Texas..._

Every single stop of this tour barely had a few days of rest in between for the Palaye Royale boys, barely enough time to wash a good load of laundry let alone rest and relax. And the worst part? They were a long way off their California and Las Vegas shows, which meant Remington didn't get to look forward to his own bed for a long while yet, let alone being able to physically see his girlfriend Ana in person.

It was driving Remington up the walls to be so far away from the woman that was his, and watching his brother Sebastian pull girls from the clubs night after night, practically drowning in sexual conquest only made him seethe with jealousy; He was completely wound up from lack of any physical touch outside of his own damn hand in what felt like months.

They had just finished a show opening for Stone Sour, and while Remington felt alive on stage, a cloud seemed to hang over him the moment they were no longer in the venue, able to feed off the energy of the crowd and the thrum of music blasting through amplifiers. Instead he withdrew from everyone, putting his headphones in and looking down at his phone in the universal posture of 'leave me the fuck alone'.

He was quiet the whole way back to their air bnb, head down in twitter, or Instagram the whole Uber ride there. His brows furrowed deep in thought, shoulders squared tightly his body language told the boys that something was wrong without him needing to say a word. It was hard to approach Remington like this when everything about him screamed danger, do not approach at any cost unless you want to be yelled at.

That was easy enough for Sebastian to ignore, who exited the Uber and went to get ready for a night on the town without a second thought for what could be bothering his brother - after all he was no good at soothing him, that was more Emerson's job. If Sebastian tried he would guarantee putting Remington in an even worse mood, so he simply wouldn't try unless he absolutely had to pull his brother's head in line. As long as he was performing and keeping his health up it wasn't any of his business what Remington did with himself.

Emerson on the other hand was more than concerned.

Waving off the Uber driver with a polite and curt smile, the youngest of the three followed Sebastian and Remington into their home for the next couple of days, shutting and locking the door securely behind them.

"Hey Rem? Remington?" Emerson called quietly after his brother who had already begun to storm his way up to his assigned bedroom for the night, putting his hand on the singer's shoulder and earning him a stern look for his troubles. But Emerson was not deterred, that look was supposed to make him give up, but he was stubborn and not so willing to give up on what wasn't his business if he could somehow help the other.

With a sigh, Remington pulled one of his earbuds out of his ear so that he could hear whatever Emerson was trying to say to him, continuing his way up to his room knowing the other would follow him.

"What do you want?" Remington snipped at his brother, flopping down at the end of the large bed that was his for the night and started to undo his boot laces, toeing off the thick combat boots and let them fall to the floor without a care for them in the slightest. He set about plugging in his phone charger and phone, having no excuse to ignore his brother he finally looked up, eyes tired even under all that thick makeup. It was obvious to anybody that knew Remington that it was not the illusion of makeup that was making him seem tired and drawn out lately, under that warpaint was someone with a lot on their mind.

Emerson sat delicately beside his brother on the bed and put a heavily decorated hand on his brother's leg, watching him flinch like the touch somehow burned him.

"You've been really grouchy lately, is everything okay with you?" the drummer asked softly, looking up with soft green eyes full of honest concern for his brother. As much as he would have loved to just blissfully ignore it like Sebastian, Emerson spent far too much time in his own head to not have his brother's discomfort at the forefront of his mind.

Remington sighed, running his fingers through his spiked up hair in frustration "I just- I really miss Ana you know?" flopping back against the soft mattress he looked up at the ceiling like it had personally insulted him in some fashion. He was feeling drawn thin, like a rubber band about to snap, and he wasn't even in hard times - they were touring, their band more popular than ever - he was busy, and happy, and making music. So why was he feeling like he was going to implode?

"So call her? I'm sure she'll answer no matter what time it is back home" Emerson suggested, not realizing exactly how deeply Remington needed her to be in physical distance and not just to see her face or hear her voice. He often felt homesick and face timing his girlfriend often helped to take the edge off until they came back around to their hometown.

"I mean I could, but I don't miss her like _that_ " Remington said, pausing to chew on his bottom lip softly, wondering if he could share this sort of frustration with his brother without making things a little awkward. How did one explain sexual frustration to his younger brother without getting far too detailed with his sex life, or lack thereof.

"So how do you miss her then?" Emerson wondered before the pieces started to fit together. The distaste for Sebastian's one night stands, the desperation for alone time when they were cramped into tiny tour bus bunk beds, the increased daredevil acts on stage that left everyone buzzing with an adrenaline high afterwards; It all pointed to one thing, Remington was overworked and undersexed.

Remington glanced at his brother with an exasperated look, cheeks flushing pink even under the layers of makeup on his face.

"O-oh. _Oh_. I get it now" Emerson smiled at his brother, turning to face him, tucking his legs underneath himself with a knowing sparkle in his eyes.

"What is that look for? Come on, man. I'm not in the mood to be teased right now" Remington kicked out with his sock clad foot, smacking Emerson in the knee with his toes.

"Who say's I'm going to tease you. I might have your solution you know~" Emerson chimed back in return, voice thick with mischief and untold secrets. He knew he could possibly solve his brother's problem, and it wouldn't even involve a trip to a sex store this time.

That had Remington's interest, perking an eyebrow at his brother's mischievous tone and sitting up on his elbows so he could look properly at his brother. "Fine, I'll bite. Talk" his interest had been piqued now, and if Emerson really wasn't teasing and could help then he was all ears.

"Ask Ana if you can have, like, one free fuck. Or many, I don't know how open to the idea she'd be. But it can't hurt to ask if you can get your dick wet at least once, you know?" Emerson held his hands out and offered his explanation like it was a perfectly reasonable thing to ask ones longtime girlfriend for. To him, loyalty was loyalty no matter when your got your euphoria, a one night stand to him was no different than smoking weed, both relaxed and gave pleasure and in the end neither of them were going to stop his feelings for his girlfriend.

Remington rolled his eyes at his brother and flopped back down, of course Emerson's solution to being wound up from lack of sex was just to _go have sex_. But he wasn't going to cheat on his girlfriend to do that, and he didn't want to risk his relationship by asking.

"Don't make that face at me Mister, ask. It can't hurt. At the very least all she can say is no" the drummer prodded his brother in the side, tickling his ribs lightly, insisting that Remington at least _try_.

"Or break up with me" Remington scrunched up his face, covering his eyes with his hands and digging the heels of his hands in, briefly making him see flashes of light behind his eyelids. This was why he was so stressed out, how could he risk his relationship for fifteen minutes of sex with a stranger? He was better off just jacking off to take the edge off, rather than making the woman hate him for poor choices.

"Just tell her you're not looking to have a side chick. There is a big difference between a one night stand and a girl on the side" Emerson sounded so sure that it was the right solution, like he had lived this conversation with his own girlfriend.

"Thanks Emerson, I'll take that into consideration. Now kindly fuck right off" Remington flipped off his brother and rolled over, burying his face in the crisp white linens to scream in frustration. Hoping his brother would get the picture to go away and leave him to his inner turmoil.

Patting his brother on the behind, Emerson stood and made to leave, closing the door behind him and heading off to his own room. He'd have to tell Sebastian why Remington was being a little brat once he was home, and sober, but for now it was time to be alone with himself.

* * *

 

Remington woke up face down in his bed hours later to the sound of Sebastian coming home, glancing at the clock he could see it was 2am, but his brother was chattering away downstairs with some girl who's laughter traveled upstairs to grate on his...  
Remington woke up face down in his bed hours later to the sound of Sebastian coming home, glancing at the clock he could see it was 2am, but his brother was chattering away downstairs with some girl who's laughter traveled upstairs to grate on his nerves. It sounded so fake, like she was just trying to be courteous long enough to get Sebastian to fuck her, which Remington was sure Sebastian had no problems with giving her if he had bothered to drag her home from whatever nightclub or party he had gone to that night.

The sound of high pitched laughter, followed by mewls of what could only be pleasure broke Remington's patience, it was one thing to be woken up at 2am by his drunk brother, but another thing entirely to have to listen to him get laid.

Pulling himself up out of bed, Remington threw his door open and stormed downstairs, catching Sebastian with the girl in his lap, grinding on him on top of the sofa, oblivious to Remington's eyes on them. The lead singer was jealous, furious, and tired, he wasn't going to let Sebastian get laid in this mood.

"Do you have any idea what fucking time it is!? People are _trying_ to sleep!" Remington shouted, smacking his fist against the wall and watching with satisfaction as the girl scrambled to get off of Sebastian's lap, tugging her skirt down to keep her modesty from the intruder. He glared daggers at the pair, eyes heavily smudged from sleep and hair sticking up at odd angles from where he had been laying - he definitely looked about as impressed to be woken up in the middle of the night as Sebastian was to be interrupted.

"I'm so sorry, I'll quiet down" she waved her hands at Remington, trying to calm him down with a pretty smile and flutter of false eyelashes that probably would have worked on him if it weren't for the fact that those overly painted lips and short skirt were all to attract people like Sebastian for a night of wild sex. Something Remington wasn't having any time soon.

"Uh, no. You're leaving, goodbye" Remington grabbed the girl by the shoulders and began to lead her towards the door, shoving her insistently towards the entrance way, needing her gone. She looked so confused and fumbled with her handbag, barely managing to grab it as Remington pushed her at the door.

"Rem no!" Sebastian finally got up then, rushing over to the girl to stop her from leaving, giving her a sympathetic look as if he was saying everything was going to be fine.

"Get fucked Danzig. If you want to fuck a whore, go to a brothel" the lead vocalist folded his arms and directed his glare right at his older brother, arms folded. He wasn't budging on his decision and if he had to punch his brother to get him to listen to his wishes then he was certainly not past a little violence to get his way.

"E-excuse me, I'm not-" the girl stammered, face flushed at the insinuation.

"Don't fucking care. Get out" this was Remington's final stance on the subject and he opened the front door, waving her out with a flourish of his arm. She grabbed her coat and scurried out with Sebastian following in a fluster of apologies and a promise to make it up to her. He could hear them bickering outside but the moment he heard Sebastian promise to call them a ride to a nice hotel for the night, Remington knew all he had done was delay Sebastian getting laid, not prevent it.

He slammed the door behind the pair and screamed at the wood, knocking over the coat rack in anger - needing something, _anything_ to get his frustration out - he couldn't stand this any more, he was too high strung, too wound up, he needed relief!

Storming back up the stairs, Remington found himself on the other end of a bleary eyed glare from Emerson, his tantrum obviously having woken the drummer boy up from his own slumber. And unlike Sebastian, Remington had not been a quiet voice in the night, his screams and commotion well and truly making the other have a rude awakening.

The vocalist gave his brother the finger, shoving passed him in the hallway with a grumble, not even apologizing for his outburst.

"Seriously Remington? Call Ana. Sort yourself out before you explode and hurt someone" Emerson simply said and turned to go back into his room, shutting the door none too quietly behind himself to go back to bed.

 _Great. Just Great_. Remington thought to himself, he knew he had fucked up. And come morning, he would be the one dealing with a cranky set of brothers that had all the right in the world to be upset with him. Perhaps Emerson was right, maybe he did just have to bite the bullet and ask his girlfriend if he could at least sleep with one person to get himself unwound enough to not be a menace to his family and a liability to his band.


	2. Dick pics and profile tricks

The sun began to peak over the top of the blinds when Remington had finally talked himself into contacting his girlfriend. The last few hours he had spent flip flopping back and forth between convincing himself he could be the good, loyal boyfriend she needed, and putting his foot down that he'd ask, no, _demand_  for at least one night of acting like his older brother and letting himself attract whoever wished to bed him that night - he had eventually settled somewhere in between the two options, asking if  _she_  was okay with him getting his sexual energies out in ways that weren't his own hand or a toy hidden under his bed sheets.

He lay back in the bed, propped up by pillows and exhaled as he hit send on the messages he had typed and retyped over and over again, biting the bullet and just leaving it short and simple.

**Hey, you awake?** **We need to talk**

**Can I call?**

**Sure**

He looked at the messages, each one suddenly showing that she had read them and immediately Remington's heart jumped into his throat as  _she_  called him.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" came the immediate voice of his girlfriend Ana, sleep tinged and worried; Remington almost felt guilty for what must've been the second person to get a rude awakening from him that night. It must've been only 9 or 10pm back home, but she was already in bed, probably for an early start of her own,

"I'm fine, nobody is hurt. Unless you count Sebastian's ego" he clarified, sinking into his pillows with a sigh, he really did miss her and even sleepy and worried her voice was a heavenly reminder of what was waiting for him back home.

Remington could hear her shift on the other line, the sound of bed sheets rustling and he breathing filling the space in their conversation for a moment as she sat up to check the time. It wasn't too late for her, but it was definitely too early for Remington to be awake if he had a concert to perform at later that night.

"I really needed to hear your voice, I'm sorry if I worried you" he managed a soft smile even though she could not see it, closing his eyes and simply listening to her and letting himself imagine being in that bedroom beside her on the large bed, snuggled up under thick blankets, pressed against her slender body with his own naked one...

 _Oh no, that's far enough Remington, this is a boner free conversation._ The vocalist reprimanded himself in his head, squishing his thighs together to discourage his body from responding to the mental picture of being in his girlfriend's bed.

"It's fine love, I haven't been asleep long. I can just sleep in a little longer in the morning" Remington could hear the sound of her sitting up, smiling at the thought of her in her pajamas, face cream on, ready to have her beauty sleep. There was a pause before she continued "You sound sad, are you sure you're okay?" she knew him well enough to hear the tenseness in his voice, the internal panic that he had set himself under for the last few hours.

"I- uh... okay so I didn't just call to hear your voice" Remington squirmed, feeling like she was staring him down in an interrogation room even though she was half way across the globe. "There is another reason I needed to talk to you but you have to promise to hear me out and not get angry"

"Did you cheat on me!?" Remington winced at the sudden shriek of his girlfriends voice through the speaker on his phone, immediately shaking his head and looking at her with big wide brown eyes that shone with guilt over what he was about to say; He was glad he could not see his face or it would give away that he was going to say something very displeasing to her.

"No! No, never... but... Okay please promise me you won't be mad?" he asked, worrying his lip with his teeth, the sound of his tongue smacking against his teeth almost audible to her on the other side.

"I can't promise you anything if you won't tell me what's wrong" her voice was stern, with an edge of suspicion that Remington knew was warranted.

"Okay, fair... Well I've been really, well, horny" he blurted out after a long moment of silence.

"What's new Remi?" a giggle tinkled up through the speaker, and he relaxed at the sound of her amusement considerably, his own laughter joining hers.

"Rude!" he playfully scolded, knowing it was all in jest on her part. "But seriously, I'm suffering major blue balls and I don't think this is the kind of horny I can just jerk away. I just about punched Sebastian just for having a girl in the house tonight..." he admitted, sinking down into the pillows with guilt pooling in his gut. He felt truly horrible for the way he had chased Sebastian and his fun for the night, out of their home in a fit of sleepy rage. He couldn't help it though, he wasn't the easiest person when he was stressed out, let alone barely awake. It was bound to happen.

"So what are you saying?" she asked, that suspicious tone back again now that it was clear Remington was not joking about the topic whatsoever. His libido was getting in the way of his life and that sent up warning bells clear as day to her.

"I'm asking... if you would give me permission to find someone to fuck?" a long pause followed with just the sound of their breathing and the noise of the birds waking up with the sun outside. "But only once! Like... just to get me through the tour!" he immediately went on damage control, trying to show her he wasn't breaking up, or cheating, that he just needed  _one_ , or in a pinch,  _two_  good fucks while he was away just to get him through all the late nights and constant parties so he could take the edge off a little bit.

"Sure" came her voice quietly, breaking Remington's babble.

"I know, I know, I'm a bad boyfriend and you want me to go die in a fire and-... wait... what?" Remington had to pause when he words finally processed in his sleep addled brain. Did she just say sure? He had to be imagining it, no girl ever gave their man the permission to fuck around... right?

"I said sure, I trust you Remi" her voice was tense, but he could tell she was telling the truth.

"Y-you do? Here I was expecting you to break up with me at the mere idea of it. I'm honestly surprised" He sighed in relief, feeling a wave of release in his muscles as the tension he had felt for a few hours now ebbed away, allowing him to sink completely down on the bed and practically envelop himself in fluffy pillows.

"If I came to you and said that I nearly punched someone because I needed to get laid, would you trust me to be safe and just get it done?" she asked, voice serious, with an edge that said Remington had little room to wiggle in this situation.

"I-... well..." he started, immediately being cut off from speaking with a screech.

"Remington Leith Kropp, you don't get to ask me to give you a free pass to cheat on me if you wouldn't give me the same!" she snipped loudly, holding the phone up close to her face so that her voice crackled loud through his speakers in her displeasure and distaste at him daring to suggest he could fuck around and she could not.

"Okay- okay. I wouldn't enjoy it, but I trust you too... so... I can do it then?" he shrunk down on himself, burying himself under the pillows as if he could somehow hide from her judgement even though she could not actually see him, he could practically see her seething stare in his mind's eye. That was a bad move on his part and he knew it.

"Of course, but on one condition-" she began, only for her boyfriend to cut her off.

"I know, I know, don't get some girl pregnant and no romance" Remington interrupted this time, rolling his eyes at what he thought was going to come from her mouth in a typical cliche argument of couples that opened their relationship like they were seemingly about to do.

"Well if you would let me finish you'd realize my condition doesn't really allow me to worry about that" she sounded displeased at being interrupted, the sound of her getting up and walking through her home heard. The sound giving him a moment to let his brain catch up to actually listen to what she had to say.

"What?" that had Remington's curiosity piqued, she kept surprising him the more they spoke tonight, it got to the point that Remington pinched his thigh hard just to test if he was dreaming or not. Nope, that fucking hurt, definitely not a dream.

"No girls. Period. I'm your girl, you either accept that or you don't get to play" she sounded so sure, like this was a conversation she had expected to eventually have. Remington almost wondered how long his sexuality had weighed on her for this to be so... so  _normal_  to her.

"But I'm not-"

"If you finish that sentence with 'gay' then I will fly to London and slap you myself" her voice was firm, commanding, and completely serious about there being consequences if Remington chose to continue this path of denying his sexuality or should he ever break the rule she was giving him.

"Okay fair... so I can sleep with guys then?" it was an interesting thought, one he hadn't even played with in his deepest fantasies, not since he had gotten a girlfriend, and not even when he had formed his first band with his brothers. People wanted to fuck their idols, and that was best achieved with the allure of a straight man. Or that was what he had convinced himself.

"That is my condition. Are you willing to accept it?" he heard the sound of her pouring herself a glass of what he was hoping was juice or milk. It gave him enough time to consider her offer, sleep around freely as long as it was exclusively with men? He could do that... he could  _try_  that.

"...Yes... I guess... Thank you?" he was so confused, but a weight had been lifted off his chest knowing that if he stuck to her rules then he would still have a beautiful woman to come home to at the end of this tour. 

"Now I am going to get some sleep, I suggest you do the same" her words were final, it was a command, not a request. He would not be able to contact her at least until she had slept, and by then he'd be in the middle of performing and the mess that was fans and merchandise. He'd wait to contact her again.

"Yes Ana. Sleep well-" he wished her a good nights sleep but the phone call dropped, she had hung up on him without so much of an 'I love you' or a 'Goodnight' to him. He'll have to send her a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine for this whole mess. But that was for another time, after sleep.

Rolling out of the mountain of pillows around him he plugged his phone in and moved to the bathroom to properly take his makeup off, showering as quietly as possible before returning to the bed to get what little sleep his schedule would allow with such an energetic night. He had a lot of things to apologize for in the next few days, but things were looking up.

Remington Leith might actually get laid before this tour was over! It was just a matter of doing it privately and efficiently. This was the hopeful thought that ran through his head as he drifted off to sleep for the few mere hours he would have left.

 

* * *

   

Sebastian was cranky, Emerson was cranky, but out of the three brothers the only one that wasn't upset was the one that had been making everyone else worry for days now. It was like when the switch for Remington's happiness was flicked on, the other two's had switched off. Daniel was worried, Louis was worried, most of their regular crew was worried too, but unlike Remington they didn't know  _why_  Sebastian and Emerson were cranky.

They were cranky with Remington.

The mood at breakfast had been seething, but not a word was spoken to Remington outside of messages through other people. And their rehearsal had been grumbled through with a hungover brother and a sleepy one making it a long laborious process for all involved.

Luckily for everyone, the thrum of a crowd, the cheers of their fans and the awesome set from Stone Sour had done wonders for everyone's mood, leaving them all buzzing from the high of a good night by the time they had returned to their temporary home for their stay. It gave Remington the chance to actually apologize properly to his brother's for his outburst the night before.

While Sebastian was getting ready for another night out on the town, Remington slipped out the front door and walked a few blocks away to find the liquor store he had spotted on the drive over. He entered with his head down, hands in his pockets, and head to the back wall of the store, not wanting to draw attention to himself if he was recognized. He wasted no time in picking out two very large bottles of Sebastian's favourite Hendrick's Gin and a large bottle of rather gross looking raspberry kombucha mixer for Emerson.

It didn't matter that he just spent well over a hundred dollars on his brothers he really needed to show them that he knew he had fucked up, and really was sorry for the whole outburst. Soon enough he would be finding ways around that stress and with any luck he wouldn't explode like that, or worse, without  _very_  good reason to.

By the time Remington had returned, Emerson had set himself in the corner of the living space with his sketch book, lost in opera music and art, and Sebastian had finished his makeup and hair for his night of partying and food in London. They seemed a little more cheerful than the morning but there was very little conversation happening and Remington had barely gotten a glance from his brothers after coming back in.

"Did you guys even know I left?" he asked setting down the paper bag full of bottles on the counter, getting nothing but silence and the overture of Emerson's music. Remington rolled his eyes at his brother's pettiness, pulling Sebastian's gin out of the bag and dancing his way up behind him into the bathroom with a bright grin set on his face.

"What the fuck do you want? Here to tell me not to bring any ladies home? Don't worry I'm not going to mortify another lady like that" Sebastian snipped, leaning in to the mirror to fuss with his hair before he actually took a look at Remington in the reflection spotting the bottles of gin and whipping around to face his brother.

"If this a forgiveness bribe then you're heading in the right direction" Sebastian made grabby hands for the bottles and Remington danced out of his reach with a laugh, holding the bottles just out of reach of his brother's grip.

"I'll let you bring a girl home tonight too if that's what you want. No more hard feelings?" Remington asked shaking the bottles so the liquid inside sloshed audibly, trying to temp his brother into his forgiveness on his taste in alcohol alone.

"Hmm. This feels like a trap..." Sebastian snatched the bottles, uncorking one and taking a heavy sip, squinting at his younger brother the whole time.

"I promise you it is not a trap. I was a dick and I want to apologize" Remington looked to his brother with wide eyes full of honestly, worrying his lip with his teeth, anxious that his brother might decide to hold a grudge instead.

"So you're saying sorry with gin and pussy?" Sebastian asked corking the bottle and stuffing them both inside his messenger bag to take with him tonight, a bemused smile set on his face.

"Would you accept anything less?" Remington asked, smacking his brother in the arm and earning a peel of laughter from them both. It was good to see that his older brother was smiling and laughing again, it didn't take much but letting him party freely seemed to wipe the slate clean once again.

"Not a chance, you know me too well" Sebastian punched Remington in the arm and slung his messenger bag now full of alcohol over his shoulder, slipping on a pair of sunglasses even though it was already night time and waved his brother's off, heading for the door in a much better mood than the one he had entered it "See you losers later!".

Now alone with his younger brother, Remington snuck up to the sofa Emerson was perched on and flopped down beside him, making puppy dog eyes at him to try and get him to look up from his sketchbook. "Emerson?" he tried to get his attention verbally but to no effect. "Em-er-son" he chimed again, this time in a sing song voice "I know you can hear me" not liking that he was being given the silent treatment Remington outright flopped into Emerson's lap, covering his sketch book with his fluffy head and looked up at him with a grin.

"If you're going to apologize with gin and pussy then I am going to have to decline your offer" Emerson stated calmly, setting his pencil down on the coffee table and shoving Remington off of his sketch so that he could safely close the book and keep his grubby mitts from ruining it.

"How about gross mushroom tea?" Remington asked with a flutter of his long lashes, clearly trying to butter his brother up with a very different bribe to the kind he had offered Sebastian.

"You didn't have enough time to go out and get magic mushrooms, so I am assuming you got kombucha?" Emerson folded one leg over the other and tried to figure out if his brother had gotten him drugs or tea.

"Yes?" Remington answered cryptically though they both knew Remington didn't have the time, or the resources in London to find a drug dealer. And he certainly wasn't going to try and get himself arrested in a foreign country.

"Well that is a start, pour me a glass would you?" the corner of Emerson's mouth quirked up at the corner, sure it was just tea but it was buying something that he liked even if Remington didn't like it himself that made the difference to him.

"Okay but this is only part one of my apology" Remington popped off the couch and head to the kitchenette, grabbing a tall high ball glass from the cupboard and filled it with ice from the freezer before pouring the raspberry kombucha into it. He winced at the little floating bits of fruit and fungus in it but obediently brought it to Emerson to drink. Who was he to judge what he liked to drink, at least it wasn't alcoholic.

"And what is part two?" Emerson asked, taking a sip from the glass with a sigh of happiness for the fruity, fizzy taste of the tea, setting it down on a coaster and finally turning his full attention to Remington now that he wasn't being an entirely too loud nuisance to him.

"Well I know how much you like a good project" biting his lip Remington dared to try and tease a response out of his brother's curious nature.

"What kind of project?" Emerson looked suspiciously at his brother, the last time he had asked this he had ended up doodling lyrics over a straight jacket for him to use as a fashion accessory, and while that was a fun project he really didn't feel like spending the next few hours getting marker everywhere when he had already started a sketch.

"Me!" Remington grinned, waving his hands out like he was presenting a brand new car, except this car was a twenty-four year old man covered in tattoos and was currently suffering from blue balls due to distance from his girlfriend.

"Remington I am not going to paint you like a french girl. Are you drunk?" Emerson rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink, reaching for his pencil, planning to tune his brother out yet again so he could draw and listen to his opera in peace.

"No! Not like that!" Remington snatched the pencil and held it just out of arms reach of his little brother, a look of desperation firmly in place. "I need you to help me make a Tinder profile, pretty please?" he stuck out his bottom lip like a petulant child, and handed the pencil back in the hopes Emerson wouldn't immediately start drawing again.

Emerson took the pencil, looking at Remington with a look of shock and surprise on his face. "A Tinder profile? Did Ana break up with you? Oh Rem, I'm so sorry I had no idea she'd take it so bad" he automatically assumed the worst, that his suggestion to ask for sexual freedom had gone terribly wrong. He seemed to have forgotten for a moment that Tinder wasn't typically used to find someone to  _date_.

"No- no that's not it at all, she took it surprisingly well. I got her permission to have sex on tour, she set some strict rules but I still got permission" Remington shrugged, just as confused as Emerson as to why she hadn't just broken up with him for asking but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"So you're not going to murder this family just because of blue balls?" Emerson tapped his pencil against his knee, drumming along to the opera still playing in contemplation for what his brother had managed to achieve. If this worked out, then they would have a happy vocalist and a happier brother to deal with on tour. He could only see a downside if Remington didn't take advantage of his freedom while he had it.

"Not if I can help it. So what do you say? Can I be your project for the night?" Remington made a kissy face at his brother, hands clasped together in begging. He needed his brother to take photos for him and to help him word his profile in a way that was mysterious and alluring instead of just blunt and stupid. Remington may have been the poetic lyricist, but a man of well thought out words he was not. And he most certainly couldn't wing it and talk out of his ass about nothing the same way Sebastian could; he needed Emerson for this.

"Just because this sounds interesting, I'll give you some of my time. Some." Emerson set the pencil down finally, sliding it and his sketchbook into his suitcase for safe keeping.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Remington practically threw himself over Emerson's lap, squeezing him tightly with a giddy childish grin set on his face, full of excited energy now. "Okay so where do we start? I don't want any fans to recognize me because then I'll just have groupies coming out the ass" Remington said sliding off of Emerson to sit beside him on the couch, pulling out his phone to start downloading the Tinder app.

"We take some anonymous pictures and upload them to your profile, show off some skin, maybe a smile or two. Girls gobble that stuff up" Emerson grinned right back, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. Girls liked him, boys liked him too, Emerson had that aura of mystery and intrigue, combined with being attractive and adorable, he could practically recite the book on how to attract people; But he was happy with Shy, all he could do was pass on his knowledge to Remington now.

"Well I  _am_  fine" the vocalist said pretending to flip a long length of hair over his shoulder with cocky confidence.

"Yes you  _are_. Now get naked and give me your phone"

Remington stripped out of his striped shirt and tossed it at his brother with a laugh, unlocking his phone and handing it to Emerson, scrunching his nose as his brother snapped a picture of him shirtless with his phone like he was his personal photographer.

"Oh wait, anonymous pictures only" Emerson stated, standing and stepping closer to his brother with the phone, getting close enough that he could get a shot of his brother that was all collarbone, neck and jewellery - no tattoos or face to identify him but enough to be alluring to the viewer.

Remington flushed at the fact that his brother was taking high definition up close shots of his body with the intent to lure a lover to him without identifying him to a potential fan, it was intimate, even for someone who regularly ran around shirtless for hundreds of people - he felt exposed.

"Open your mouth" Emerson said peeking up from behind the phone with a cheeky grin set into his face, dimples appearing in his cheeks making him seem so much younger and so much cuter when compared to the words coming out of his mouth.

Remington blinked in surprise at the words, having to take a minute to process what had just been asked of him. "Wh-what?" he stuttered, not sure if he had heard that correctly. Was Emerson drunk? That didn't sound like something a sober man would ask of their  _brother_.

"Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue. We need a face shot" Emerson held the phone up expectantly, lining up the shot so that he could get the perfect view of Remington's full lips.

"But I don't want people to know I'm on Tinder!" Remington flailed his hands slightly, the last thing he needed was a low budget tabloid finding his face on Tinder and reporting at the fact that the supposedly taken man was active on it. That would make the fan base turn on their head and he did not need that headache.

"And they won't, now open your mouth or I'll open it for you" Emerson said simply, wiggling his fingers at his brother seemingly deadly serious about sticking his fingers in his mouth if he was not going to do it himself.

Remington's cheeks flushed bright red at the way his brother commanded him, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue, it felt lewd, and dirty and oh so very wrong but the way his brother was smiling as he snapped the shot told him it had to be good; That or Emerson was about to fuck with him and post a picture of him looking like he was about to suck a cock on Instagram.

"Perfect, so we have some face and body shots. Now we need something interesting about you. Something about your personality...hmmm" Emerson tapped the free edge of the phone against his chin in thought, trying to come up with something interesting to add that wasn't pure physical shots for Remington's bed mates to drool over.

"A picture of a jar of nutella?" Remington shrugged, unable to really think of anything after his brother's demand to open his mouth, slightly stuck on that thought and all things that involved said mouth. Which lead his mind to his favourite treat.

"How about a dog picture? Bitches love dogs" Emerson seemed to have decided for Remington that was the last shot they needed to complete his profile, shuffling back to the couch to flick through his own phone for a cute shot of their pets back home until he found the one he wanted to use. He airdropped it to his brothers phone and grinned brightly up at him once he was done.

His brother always did love a good art project, and what better project than making his brother a walking advertisement for sex?

They sat for the next hour setting up Remington's profile, an ambiguous username with no personal details other than allowing the app to know they were based out of Las Vegas with the pictures Emerson had taken plus the one of the dogs. By the end of it they had what Remington hoped was someone people would want to talk to, want to fuck, and above all else, be unidentifiable as Remington Leith front man of Palaye Royale.

"So you're a man seeking a woman..." Emerson started to select the options for Remington, giggling to himself as he set the age at 18-45 in the hopes of finding his brother a hot milf to bang. Without warning Remington snatched the phone from his brother and started to rush out of the room, leaving his brother with his discarded shirt and bottle of kombucha alone on the couch.

"Uh, I'll finish it off okay? Thanks for the help I'll see you in the morning!" Remington hurriedly ran up the staircase to his bedroom, cheeks flushed in embarrassment for hiding this from his brother. Pressed against his now closed door he could feel his heart hammering in his chest at how close he had almost come to admitting to his brother that he was not as straight as he told people he was. 

He changed the setting on the app to 'man seeking man' and set the age limit a little lower than what Emerson had chosen for him so that he could find someone single and closer to his own age group in the hopes of finding sexually promiscuous people instead of married couples looking for a fling. He waited for a long moment before finally hitting the button to create his profile, swallowing thickly as it completed.

Remington Leith was now MrDoctorMan, a 24 year old man seeking a man for a sexual fling on Tinder. He started to swipe on the pictures of potentials in the area, not being too picky but being sure to not swipe on people that seemed a bit too crazy, or derogatory for his liking. The app buzzed not even a minute later and his heart leaped into his stomach with anticipation to talk to the person messaging him.

"What the fuck!?" Remington Leith had just gotten his first dick pic. And it wasn't even a  _nice_  dick.

 

 


	3. I feel good

"Emerson! I need the picture!" Remington called from his bedroom, holding his phone out like it had personally insulted him somehow. He had gotten no less than twenty five dick pics since setting up his profile and no matter how many times Remington politely declined it usually resulted in either more pictures or an attack of abuse from the sender as their ego was hurt.

Emerson waddled in with his sketchbook, a black ink pen secured in his teeth, seemingly having been mid drawing when Remington called for him. Pulling the pen out of his mouth Emerson gave a sigh "Why don't you just save a picture of it on your phone and save me having to bring you my sketchbook every time you want to turn someone down?" Emerson said, dropping the open sketchbook on Remington's bed so that Remington could take a snapshot of the drawing on the open page, one Remington had drawn himself.

Remington shrugged and snapped a picture, sending it off to the latest dick pic sender - a large NO written in black ink with little offensive doodles all around the page - once sent he promptly blocked the sender to avoid the swath of upset insults he tended to get after sending the most straightforward no he could muster.

"Do you really have to send something like that? I find it hard to believe you're getting  _that_  many crazy girls in your messages that you need it" Emerson asked, leaning against the door frame after collecting his sketch book, sliding his pen behind his ear with a look that said he didn't really think so many would be the type to not take no for an answer.

"You'd be surprised" Remington cleared his throat and set his phone down, ushering Emerson out of his room before he figured out just who he was getting messages from and what those messages contained. Last thing he wanted to do right now was have _the talk_ with his brothers.

Closing the door behind Emerson, Remington sighed as his phone vibrated; more matches. But he was getting sick of men that either came on too hard, or people who thought sending pictures of their cocks were a good pick up line.

_What do they fucking expect? do they just think I'm going to want to just jump on it? Perverts..._

They had a few free days before having to go back to America, Emerson had plans to go to France for a few days and a bunch of fans had planned a meet up in a park nearby that they had dubbed 'Palaye in the Park' that he and Sebastian planned to maybe pop in and surprise them. They weren't huge plans, but none of them were going to result in getting him laid, and Remington was starting to feel the itch again that knowing he  _could_  go and find someone had soothed earlier that week.

Flopping down into his bed he picked up his phone to check the message, squinting his eyes in expectation for another phallus, but it was far from it. He had actually received a  _normal_  message.

**I'm guessing you're a fan of Palaye Royale?**

Remington sputtered, heart racing in his chest with fear that someone had recognized him from the carefully posed and framed photos Emerson had taken of him. His first instinct was to block this person, but he was intrigued as to how they had come to the conclusion.

"Hmm, NaNaBatman. Cute name. Now why did we match?" Remington mumbled to himself, clicking the profile, finding an assortment of similarly framed shots as his own, no face shots to be seen. Though there were a fair amount of shots of cute animals, and likely the person writing him holding said animals. He could see a skinny tattooed arm and the clothing adorning that body definitely gave him the illusion of someone with at least a similar taste in fashion, if not music. He vaguely remembered smiling at the cute animals more than the person, but he had swiped to try and get a match regardless.

"Okay, animal lover with tattoos. I remember you" he opened the message again and took a moment to carefully word his reply so as not to give the game away.

**What makes you ask that?**

The question was innocent enough, either they knew who he was or they didn't, but it was important sooner rather than later to know if this NaNaBatman actually knew who he was so he could start the long journey of fighting the possible media backlash with things like 'it was a prank' or 'someone is pretending to be Remington online' the typical responses that would be believable enough without needing too much explanation. But the real question was did he really have to go to the effort, certainly not if he didn't have to.

**It's the username**

**One of their songs right?**

**So you're either a fan or a medical professional, am I wrong?**

**Ur familiar with Palaye Royale?**

**I hear a lot of new music at my job so yeah**

That made Remington sigh with relief, NaNaBatman wasn't a hyper fan, and nor did they recognize him. They just happened to know of their music through their job, it did a lot to settle his nerves over the matter and once his mild panic had settled he realised one thing.

**So off topic**

**But u r the first guy to hold a conversation with me n not send me a dick pic**

**I can send you a picture of my pussy if you would prefer**

Remington's eyes bugged, his what!? Was he talking to a woman? Oh fuck, oh no. Red alert, all hands to battle stations! He needed to get out of this conversation immediately before he upset his girlfriend. Before he could hit the back button on the conversation his phone dinged to say he received a message. Too late now he had a picture of... a cat?

**Omfg you ass you nearly gave me a heart attack**

Staring at him from atop soft pillows was the cutest little black cat Remington had seen, curled up into a ball and looking very comfortable in its spot, clearly dozing and unaware of its master taking a snapshot of it and sending it away to strangers. This was the cutest pussy he had received (and only), and 100% better than any dick pic he had received.

**Did you really think I was going to send you a picture of lady parts?**

**Thats fucking hilarious**

**U r so lucky it wasnt**

**I would have blocked u so fast**

Remington spent the rest of the night chatting with this new person, effectively ignoring all other messages, but he figured most of them would be unsolicited dick pics anyway but right here right now, in this chat window he had a man that had yet to send him anything illicit, hadn't outright asked for nudes, or told him where he thought they belonged. No, this was a shockingly normal conversation, cute even. This definitely turned his opinion of the app around, if there were guys like NaNaBatman on here, perhaps he might actually be able to find what he needed here without having to throw his self respect aside for it.

A few more days in England passed, the free time mostly used hauled up in private accommodations and for Remington in particular, chatting with NaNaBatman as his pseudonym MrDoctorMan, they had a lot in common, enjoyed mindless television, had good taste in music and above all else, Remington had yet to get into an overly sexualised conversation with the man. This was perfect for Remington but honestly, he had yet to get laid, and while he had not  _wanted_  a picture of the man's penis, he almost wished that NaNaBatman wasn't hauled up in Los Angeles, because then maybe, just maybe he would have had something to take his mind off of the fact that he was horny.

He had explained to the man that he was looking for some good sex without any strings attached - of course leaving out the part about the fact that it was on orders from his current girlfriend - and it didn't seem to have phased NaNaBatman in the slightest and their conversations had gone on as normal. But it was their last night in England, leaving late tomorrow for back home and straight into the dreaded Warped Tour of constant work and very little free time for weeks on end. Could he really handle that level of stress without a little bit of fun under his belt first? England had been beautiful, his brother had even gone to France for a little me time, and Sebastian had run circles down every picturesque alleyway he could. But Remington had done nothing to ease his soul before the crippling stress of tour would start anew; What was he to do?

He decided on a whim to just chat to his new 'friend' and see if he had any good advice, or at the very least some new music or animal pictures to take his mind off of his stress.

**I feel like I'm losing my mind**

**Work stress?**

**no man I rly need 2 get laid**

**Are you asking me?**

**unless u r in Brussells**

**no**

**I thought you were in Vegas?**

**usually am**

**but I'm away for work**

**Oh**

**Well I have something that might help**

**if you send me a picture of your dick I swear**

**Sorry you're not that lucky**

**well thats at least a good change of pace for this app**

**lol**

**so what kind of help?**

**not hookers plz**

**That is also a no friend**

Friend? That had Remington smiling goofily at his phone, a fully anonymous friend to vent to certainly wasn't something he had expected to find on Tinder of all things. But it was nice to be able to bemoan his libido, his brother's and his work without someone knowing it was him. NaNaBatman was almost like his own personal therapist and he didn't even know the weight he was taking off of his shoulders in just being a good ear and a good friend.

**so how am I getting help? I need something fast, free, and no strings attached**

**Well I can fulfill two of that, it's not free**

**I thought you said no hookers**

**It's not hookers**

**You need to pay a cover fee for this party I know of**

**a party? that's not really as low-key as I would like man**

**Trust me**

Trust? Could Remington really trust a stranger to send him out to a party and have him not get recognized or end up on some shitty tabloid article writing about their beloved lead singer making out with a random dude at a party. It didn't really seem like the type of thing Remington could really get behind, not without having to throw up all his walls and pretend to be the fun loving lead singer he was in front of the public eye. He had to be well behaved at parties, or at least behaved enough to not cause a scandal.

**This is a fully anonymous place**

**Think of it like a masquerade**

**In fact you'll probably want to hit up somewhere like party city**

**And find yourself a mask or a costume, that way you'll fit in**

A masquerade? That definitely sounded a lot more identity hiding than Remington's usual after party circuit of celebrities and musicians. In fact, with the right outfit and mask, nobody would probably ever know it was him. 

**Ur sending me to a masquerade?**

**I'm sending you to an exclusive party**

**Where everyone will be hidden behind a mask**

**And most if not all of them will be looking for a hot dicking**

**that is... very nicely put...**

**What you don't want a hot dicking?**

As crudely as it was put, Remington hadn't really thought about whether he was looking to fuck a cute guy or have a cute guy fuck  _him_ , either way he knew he had to get laid by more than just his own two hands and a few toys. At least to get him by until he returned to his states and the bed of his lovely woman. With a huff of a chuckle, Remington simply replied with a few emojis: The eggplant, the splash, and the tongue. Just to let NaNaBatman know that yes, he wanted a hot dicking. But he refused to use that phrasing.

**That's what I thought**

**I have been a few times it is A+**

**ok ok ok**

**fine**

**give me the deets? plz**

Remington made notes of the location of the party in his phone, telling his brothers he was going out tonight. They didn't seem bothered, and even Emerson said that he had plans himself so not to wait up for him, it was a very rare occasion that all three of them had plans and separate from each other at that. But Remington would not complain, not if there were going to be no judgemental brotherly stares for his walk of shame come morning. No, this was almost ideal, nobody would question his costume, and nobody would wonder what he had gotten up to, it was like slipping into the shadows and sneaking away for a secret life of crime fighting - almost fitting that he was getting  the information from a man naming himself after the caped crusader himself.

The information he was given told Remington that the place opened at 9pm, pretty late for a club, and much later than was usual for a typical house party too. This time between now and the party gave Remington the chance to duck into a costume store and buy himself the mask he needed to hide his identity as instructed by NaNaBatman. He chose an Italian style carnivale mask that covered his whole face with that of something akin to an angry demon, brows pulled downwards in a frown and sharp fangs jutting out from the twisted grin of the demon in what was a sort of predatory growling smile. It covered all of Remington's features on his face, and with some well planned clothing choices that covered his tattoos he was certain that most, if not all of his identifying features were now covered completely.

To go along with the demon theme, he chose a red, long sleeve button down shirt that he borrowed directly from Sebastian's own suitcase, teamed with a pair of his own tight fitting black jeans that clung to his long legs and slender frame in all the right ways. The pants sat low on his hipbones, normally he would have loved it, showing off the cut of his hip bones and the tattoos that covered his skin there, but this was not a time for showing off his very recognizable tattoos, so instead he tucked the shirt down into the waist of the jeans, securing it down with a studded leather belt to keep everything tucked away and hidden from view. All of this combined with a pair of heavy combat boots that he was sure probably belonged to Daniel, gave him an air of both allure and mystery, like the devil himself was looking for a playmate for the evening; perfect.

He snapped a picture of himself and sent it away to NaNaBatman, with the mask firmly in place to hide his face away and called himself a taxi to take him to where he needed to go. He normally preferred uber, but this was one instance he wanted nothing that could trace him back to the party, no uber receipt, no paypal transaction. Nothing that a nosy could follow and link back to him, no, tonight everything was cash and anonymity. 

He hoped the picture would be appreciated, wanting NaNaBatman to get a kick out of the tight fitting fabric and the devil like appearance he was rocking. He hoped he enjoyed it and approved, and while there was no skin showing it was certainly a sight to behold of Remington's fit and slender form, long legs and tight muscles all wrapped in red and black fabric tight enough to be a second skin.

**Nice you will kill it out there**

Remington didn't get a chance to respond when a honk alerted him to his taxi outside waiting to take him to the mysterious masquerade party where he was hoping to possibly get laid and take the weight of sexual frustration off his shoulders in ways his hand simply could not. His phone vibrated in his pocked one more time once he got in the taxi but anticipation jitters had set in and he didn't think he could manage more than a few well spoken emojis as responses right now, and with his luck it would probably just be another pervert sending him a disgusting picture of their genitalia in the hopes of Remington wanting to jump on it, and he wasn't going to waste time on those sleazebags when he had something like this to look forward to.

He wondered just what kind of place this was, was it a renovated warehouse turned nightclub or maybe a dank basement full of meth heads seeking a fix and a fuck? Or would it be displaying its colours out the front like the over hyped night clubs in Vegas with their neon signs and scantily clad models handing out flyers on the street? He hoped it wasn't quite as loud and flamboyantly gay as that, privacy would certainly be hard to keep in that kind of crowd even with the costume disguising him.

After about a twenty minute ride, the taxi pulled into what Remington could only describe as a fancy golf club, the picturesque English villa settled among perfectly trimmed hedges and beautiful flower bushes that covered tall windows where he could see the curtains had been drawn; delicate layers of white lace that gave the inside a dreamy quality, illuminated by bright colours and flashing lights inside where the shadows danced along the fabric of blurred and barely visible people inside. There was a thumping bass coming from inside and the shadows danced to the music almost like a hypnotic flame atop a candle dancing in the breeze. 

Definitely a much classier place than Remington had expected, and the large gate out front and long stretches of green grasslands around it certainly ensured that no neighbours would be bothered by the loud music and bright lights of the mysterious party inside. Much more privacy than Remington had thought he would be getting tonight, and from the location alone he could understand why there was a fee for entry, hiring this place would not have been cheap in the slightest.

He paid the driver in cash and carefully affixed his mask, fussing with it until he was certain they would not be able to see more than his eyes and lips through the appropriate holes in it. He stepped up to the door and was immediately stopped by a tall and muscular bouncer wearing a mickey mouse mask - one of those cheap plastic ones meant for children - and watched as the muscular brute held out a hand expectantly to Remington, clearly wanting something handed to him.

"I... uh... Do you want my ID?" Remington asked nervously, ready to run the other way if there was any chance of being identified here. He hadn't thought of the fact that he might get carded, and NaNaBatman hadn't mentioned anything about needing ID to get in.  _Shit._

With a roll of his eyes behind the mask, the bouncer said in a voice much lighter than his muscular body alluded to "No, you need to pay to enter sweetheart, fifty quid" it probably wasn't every day someone didn't know what to do to enter here, but for a bouncer he was surprisingly patient with Remington, waiting for him to hand over the cash.

The words made Remington's stomach untwist and without hesitation he handed over the fifty pounds the bouncer had asked for and was let through the door with no other enquiry as to who he was or what he was doing there. It seemed they either did not care if you were underage here or they were just strict on not asking questions about their patrons identities and such. Just how and why this NaNaBatman knew of this place and exactly why he needed an ostentatious manor full of masked men just to find sex was beyond him. But these of course were questions for later, as Remington stepped inside.

The entrance was a large foyer of an even bigger manor than Remington could have guessed from just seeing it from the outside, the room having a large staircase that looped up either side of the ornately decorated entrance, where portraits of men in polo shirts smiled brightly hung up all the way along. There were ornamental sports equipment stored in illuminated glass cabinets along the edges of the main walls and glancing down between the staircases he could see a long hallway leading into the main section of the manor, doors and doors and doors leading into mysterious rooms that practically begged to be explored. 

On either side of the entrance were large arches, on the left side the arch opened into a large seating area where there was a crowd of masked men dancing along to the thumping music, a DJ booth nestled neatly between two large windows, the lights from the electronics dancing around the room and giving it a nightclub appearance. On the right hand side the other arch led into a stately dining room, with a long bar lining one entire wall of the room, with expensive bottles of liquor on display behind the equally masked bartender. Around the room were men of different levels of intoxication nursing brightly coloured drinks and chatting amongst themselves in intimate little bubbles, crowded close so they could talk and still be heard over the loud music that seemed to permeate the whole manor.

Remington decided that a little liquid courage was in order and waltzed into the room with the bar, heading straight for the bartender and hoping that he wouldn't ask for ID at this point either. The bartender spotted Remington and stopped what he was doing, and set the glass he had been cleaning down on the counter in front of him and leaned forward so that he could hear what Remington had to say over the music.

"Uh, honestly I don't even know what is good here... so... I guess I'll take the house special?" Remington said, awkwardly pulling out his wallet, assuming he would have to pay for his order just like at any other bar. The bartender, a man with a leather mask akin to that of Zorro tied to his face simply smirked at the request, refusing his money and turned around to get to work at mixing a drink for Remington that was brightly coloured with layers of bright blue, purple and red liquors that all transitioned beautifully from on to the other in a tall glass filled with ice.

Remington took the free drink with a surprised smiled, thanking the bartender for the drink and wandered over to an empty booth near the archway entrance to the room so that he could sit and drink while watching the room full of undulating bodies that danced across the hall. He decided now was a good time to sit and sip his drink and contemplate his next move here in this strange gay heaven, he considered joining the men dancing for himself, or maybe he would go explore up the stairs or through the mysterious hallways of the manor and see if there was anything else interesting on offer like a pool table, or games room, something nice and simple to ease his nerves if this drink did not. He figured a place like this would probably have a spa, or maybe even a pool here, he would have to make a mental note not to get himself pulled into these areas if he wanted to hide his tattoos from everyone and conceal his identity efficiently.

His phone vibrated once again, and with a sigh Remington took it out, taking a heavy few sips of his drink as he unlocked it. He had a few messages from NaNaBatman.

**Oh that reminds me, don't drink anything there**

**Unless you brought it yourself**

**Doc?**

**Come on man you really need to not drink there**

**That place is chemsex heaven**

Remington blinked at the message, glass of his drink still pressed to his lips, half of the contents of it already downed. He immediately started to write a reply, feeling a warmth in his belly spreading up his chest and neck in a way that reminded Remington of the body blush of arousal right before sex or when he was watching porn; Just what was in that drink?

**wtf is chemsex!?**

**Sex on drugs**

**They drug the drinks for intense sex**

**and what if I already had a drink?**

**Fuck**

**Be safe Doc, you're going to be high as fuck**

With a huff, Remington shoved his phone in his pocket and decided he was going to ignore any other vibrations from it. It was too late for warnings and words of caution now, he had been drugged and seemingly a lot of the others here were too. 

"Fuck it" Remington cursed, picking up the glass again and tossing back the rest of his drink, deciding he was just going to do as the Romans while in Rome. He stormed across the foyer once again, heading right for the mass of dancing men and started to push through the mass of grinding bodies straight to the centre, deciding to just let loose. He started to dance along to the heavy hedonistic beat of the music, rolling his lithe body this way and that in ways he hoped would catch somebodies eye.

It didn't take long before a man wearing a plague doctors mask pressed up behind him, his long black cape flapping around them as they danced together. No words were shared between them but they definitely had physical chemistry, their bodies sliding against each other smoothly, grinding and undulating against each other along to the music that thrummed like electricity around them. Remington could feel a hardness against his thigh as they ground together, he could tell this person definitely wanted him in more ways than just a dance partner. No they had a different dance in mind.

A long drawn out moan left Remington as the plague doctor slid his arm around his body, sliding his gloved hand down his chest to rub over his own equally hard crotch through his tight jeans. He felt dizzy with how amazing just that light touch felt and he was glad for the heavy and loud music that drowned out the absolutely wrecked moan that ripped from his throat before he could physically stop himself from moaning. 

The masked man seemed to understand just how hardwired Remington was, or perhaps he had seen him downing the drug and aphrodisiac laden drink and knew the advances he was making would not be admonished, because after the touch and positive reaction from Remington's body, he found himself being pulled across the dance floor and towards a bathroom door that was illuminated with black lights and softly lit neon strips along the doors and walls that gave the room a brothel like quality inside along with its black tiles.

The door was shut and locked behind them and Remington found himself pressed hard against the black tilled wall, their crotches pressed together in a lecherous bump and grind of hardness that Remington had not realised he had been craving so desperately, the feel of a strong masculine body, hard and pressed up against him like lighting a fire in his belly. The man reached up, wanting to take the mask off of his face, and instantly Remington's hands flew up, wanting to keep it in place he held onto it with desperation, shaking his head to indicate he did not want to remove it. He would not reveal his face to the alluring plague doctor even if it meant he could kiss the man, he would not risk being found out here in this den of sex and drugs. It would be career suicide.

They seemed to get the message and their hands dropped from the mask to Remington's belt instead, fingers deftly working open his fly with a sparkly of mischief, or perhaps lust in impossibly green eyes that were illuminated by the artificial light of the room, giving them an almost inhuman quality.

Remington had been about to ask if the person had a rubber on them, thinking the man was going to bend him over the nearest sink and fuck him senseless, when without prompting the plague doctor sank to his knees before him. He shifted his mask slightly to the side and pulled Remington's cock from his fly, within seconds he found himself wrapped in delicious silky warmth, the plague doctor sucking him down like his member was a delicious treat to savour. He licked and lapped at his red hardness like he was worshipping his cock with his tongue, tasting every piece of hard reddened flesh for himself.

It felt heavenly and it took all of Remington's concentration and willpower not to moan or grab the man's head and just fuck that wonderful mouth until completion, his skin was ablaze with arousal and his head spun with the pleasantness of the drug fuelled pleasure he was giving him. He could see why people did this whole chemsex thing, the pleasure didn't just radiate from his cock, but he could feel it all over like sinking into a warm bath, it spread from where they were connected all the way down to his toes and back up to where he knew he had to be red faced behind his mask.

Green eyes glanced up at him for just a moment before the plague doctor forced his mouth down hard, pushing Remington deep into his throat where the tightness of his throat muscles squeezing and fluttering around him had his body jerking in response, hips jumping forward until he could feel the mystery man's lips  pressed against his hips, completely enveloped by that mouth and throat in what felt like the perfect fit.

The way the man gagged and enthusiastically forced Remington deep broke his resolve and with a heavy grunt, Remington started to thrust into that hot, wet mouth, feeling himself pulling almost all the way out of his mouth before pushing all the way back in. Sparks flew against his vision as the pleasure began to build and grow in his stomach, like a balloon ready to burst. The world around him twisted and blurred with colour and he felt dizzy with all the pleasure, the sounds of wet slurping and gentle gagging so loud to him even as the music blasted and people crowded on the other side of the door. His whole world shrunk down to just this room, the two of them and the pleasure Remington was taking from the plague doctor's willing and eager mouth.

The plague doctor's hands slid sensually up Remington's long thighs until he was cupping his behind, just letting Remington take his pleasure and letting him use his body for whatever pleasure he was seeking. They seemed to even enjoy that lack of control from the way their hips were jumping in time with Remington's thrusts, humping the air with as much desperate need as Remington was thrusting himself.

Remington wanted to help, wanted to give him as much pleasure as he was receiving but he couldn't bare for it to stop his own pleasure. Seemingly as if hearing his thoughts, the man released Remington with on hand, moving to pull himself free from his own pants to stroke himself while Remington used his body.

 _Shit, fuck, shit, shit, fuck that is hot._ Remington thought to himself, even his inner voice clouded with arousal and desperation that the drugs had filled him with, only fuelled by the mystery man on his knees. His hips snapped forward, his body working on its own now as it chased the release it so desperately wanted, no, needed to put his world back into equilibrium. He was so close and each thrust only got him closer. 

He wanted to warn the man, but the chance was stolen from him when his own orgasm was ripped from him as he watched the mystery man spill over his own gloved hand and the bottom of Remington's pants with a violent bodily shudder. It was too much input, too good to resist and he arched forward, doubling over as he spilled into the mouth around him, gritting his teeth and grunting as pleasure ripped through him in all the ways the last few weeks of masturbating could not even come close to.

Pulling off of Remington, the man slid his mask back into place and without a word shared between them, he left. No names, no phone numbers exchanged, just an empty bathroom with Remington standing there with his dick out, feeling like the whole encounter might have been just a very vivid drug trip fuelled by stress and a very creative, horny imagination. 

"If that was just me jerking off in here by myself, I am going to die" Remington said to himself, tucking his spent cock back into his pants and moved to look at himself in the mirror on one of the walls. The room spun and wobbled around him, colour lights hitting his mask in a way that made it seem very real, like it was a horrifyingly real devil standing there, or perhaps it was the drugs in his system skewing his vision. What was  _definitely_  the drugs was the way his pupils were blown wide behind his mask, making him look wild and almost predatory, if it weren't for the fact that he had just came he would have assumed he was still on the hunt for a good fuck this very moment, it almost scared him even with the drug still buzzing in his system.

Cleaning himself up, Remington decided he was done here, he had gotten what he had come for, but the brevity of the encounter had made him feel dirty, so he figured it was time to head back and soak himself in a nice hot bath.

He called another cab and went straight back to where they were staying, once inside he stripped out of his clothes and headed right for the bathroom for his bath. Everything still spun but he was present enough that he could send a message to his brothers to let them know he was back safely, and one last message to NaNaBatman.

**next time warn me BEFORE I accidentally drug myself**

 


	4. New beginnings

Remington woke up that morning with one hell of a hangover, even though had only the one drink his head pounded like he had done shot for shot with Sebastian and Daniel all night. Rolling over he could see the clock on the nightstand read 13:21, meaning it was just after one in the afternoon, a few hours before he and his brothers would have to be ready to fly back home to the United States.

"Ungk" Remington grunted, rolling over and pulling himself up out of bed with a lot of effort on his part, his head pounded, and vision spun around him rapidly, he barely managed to catch himself on the door frame as he made his way out of his room to head out for 'breakfast'. 

"You look like a bucked of smashed assholes" came the voice of Remington's older brother Sebastian down the hall, and when Remington finally made it into the kitchen he could see him sitting at the island on a stool, nursing an overly large coffee cup and if the flask sitting on the counter top was anything to go by, that coffee had definitely been spiked.

"I feel like it too" Remington replied, voice thick with grogginess as he stumbled towards the kitchen proper, making straight for the coffee machine himself in the hopes of drowning out the coming down from whatever he had been drugged with the night prior with copious amounts of caffeine; if only to get him through the craziness of packing and travelling. He had a lot to do and this heavy exhaustion would serve none of them well if it lingered too long.

"That's not like you to get wasted by yourself, must have been one hell of a party" Emerson chimed in from where he was curled up on the couch, head buried in a sketch pad and looking just as exhausted as Remington felt, the dark circles around the drummers eyes told Remington that he was barely managing to stay awake enough to really draw even though he seemed to be diligently trying.

"You could say that... have any of you slept?" Remington asked, eyes focused on the coffee machine, watching it make his coffee with lazy interest, his forehead resting on the cool cupboard doors above it and letting the touch soothe his headache, even if it was just a little bit.

"Guilty" Emerson replied briefly, looking up from his drawings and when Remington looked back over he could see that his eyes were also bloodshot to all hell, and honestly Remington couldn't tell if that was because his brother was high or sleep deprived and there was about an equal chance for either really.

"Jesus, good thing we don't have a show tonight" Remington sighed, looking between the members of his family, thankful that performing was not in the cards for them tonight; but even if they had, it wouldn't be the first time they had played in less than ideal states of body and mind, they had performed both drunk and hungover before. Remington was just glad that he had a good long flight to sleep on instead of screaming fans and loud music to look forward to.

"Like you would cancel the show even if we did. You could be bleeding out and you would still perform" came Sebastian's snarky voice, slurring in a way that told Remington he was either still drunk or had gotten himself drunk once again to combat the hangover that a night of gin and partying would have left him with.

"Shut up Sebastian" Remington snarked right back, snipping at his brother, in no mood to deal with sarcasm and attitude when his head throbbed this much; and he hadn't even had coffee yet. Of course he would perform even if he was dying; his fans deserved it in his mind. But he did not have to be shamed by a man drunk at lunch time on a day they had to be going through security checks and getting on an aeroplane.

"Someone is a hungover pissy bitch. Come here and have some of the hair of the dog that bit you" Sebastian stood, bringing his flask over to where Remington was standing and attempted to spike his coffee with whatever was inside it. This action resulted in a little struggle between the two men as Remington tried to protect his glorious coffee from the booze his brother was offering to help him with.

"No, no. I'm good. I just nee to survive long enough to sleep on the plane. If we are all fucked up who will make sure we don't lose Daniel at the airport?" And honestly losing their bassist in England right before Warped Tour would fuck them up more than a simple hangover would. Someone had to mind the drunks and that sure as shit wasn't going to be Sebastian - one of said drunks.

"Touche" Sebastian chuckled, returning to his spot and poured a few more fingers of whatever was in his flask into his coffee, refilling it back to the top. They all sat there in silence, drinking their respective, tea, coffees and savoured what small amount of quiet time they had before the mad rush of packing and heading out the airport began. There was a lot of work in coordinating enough grown men to pack their clothes, their instruments and get themselves decent enough to be presentable to airport security, so this small quiet moment was like the calm before the storm.

"But if you change your mind, you know where to find me~" Sebastian practically cooed, grinning smugly at his younger brother and shaking his flask in a way that made an audible sloshing sound from the liquid inside. Remington definitely didn't need any additional mind altering substances in his system. He needed to be in control of his faculties and get things done. Not be drunk out of his mind while coming down from a drug high that had gotten him a very interesting and unusually slutty encounter the night prior; No, Remington definitely needed to not be riding the inebriation train right now.

Remington had to remind himself to stay as sober as possible, and when he got back home he needed to make sure he shared what happened with his girlfriend him the hopes of it making him feel less dirty about it; He felt like he had cheated on her  in some way when in reality she had given him full permission for the whole encounter. She should know he had been with another man, to ensure her he still wished to be with her and that he very much wanted to return to her bed, her body and the wonderful feeling of when they made love. No stranger on his knees could change that.

He also wanted to thank her for the opportunity to get some of that pent up sexual energy out. It would mean a lot to him to have that outlet while on tour and maybe, just maybe, next time he wouldn't accidentally drug himself for the effort.

"Jesus, what do you see in the coffee? You suddenly able to read the diving in it?" Emerson's voice pulled Remington out of his thoughts, not realising he had been standing there just staring at the brown liquid like he was listening to it tell him secrets, spacing out in his own thoughts long enough that it had been noticed. With a cringe of embarrassment, Remington picked up his drink and set about shoving a ridiculous amount of sugar and some almond milk into it to make it more palatable.

"Sorry... I'm not all here right now. I am really ready for my own bed, y'know?" Remington explained, flopping down next to Emerson on the couch, and watching him apply salve to his knees and feet. Drumming really took its toll on Emerson's body and out of all of them, he was the one who would benefit the most from a good rest than anyone else. Remington could see that his toes were swollen and angry and there were very distinct bruises running from his knees all the way down to his ankles where they too were just a little swollen. He looked a mess, and that wouldn't compare to Emerson's hands once Warped Tour was over - they all knew he would look like he picked a fight with a mountain lion and lost but that was the price Emerson paid for his instrument and workload.

"And return to Ana?" Emerson added with a cheeky smile, dimples forming as he glanced up from his first aid ritual to give his brother a playful wink, cheerful despite how he looked.

"Definitely, you looking forward to seeing Shy?" Remington asked his little brother, scooting down the sofa cushions to rest his head on Emerson's shoulder, letting himself be jostled lightly as Emerson went back to rubbing the pain relief salve into his aching body.

"I always want to return to my Peach, it will be good to spend some time with her before tour. We should take the girls out on a date before we leave again" Emerson suggested, throwing an arm around Remington's shoulders once he was done, letting the vocalist snuggle up as he pleased.

Remington nodded, burying his face into Emerson's chest for a cuddle, he could clearly smell the scent of the pain cream on his skin, a minty and sharp medical smell mixing with the earthy musk of his younger brother pleasantly. He loved the idea of taking Ana and Shy out for a double date to spend some quality time together before the boys were whisked away yet again for long weeks of non-stop touring. They all would need that small bubble of comfort and happiness to send them off on a good note; Remington could not wait.

"So things are okay between you two now?" Emerson asked, drumming his fingers lightly against Remington's shoulder in a mindless fidget, worried for the man who had been so stretched thin just days before, he hated seeing Remington breaking the way he had. It was a quiet comfort to Remington to know that he hadn't manage to fuck things up too badly with his mad behaviour, being wound up only to explode at the people closest to you was never fun but it was everything to him to have them both by his side.

"Yeah, thanks for the help the other day. I haven't really met anyone on there that takes my fancy but I might have made a new friend" A small smile came on to Remington's face at just the thought of NaNaBatman and their playful banter, even just the mention of him lifting his mood just a little bit.

"A friend? Careful Rem, a friend is more than a fuck, I don't want you to get in trouble" Emerson warned, knowing that it was dangerous territory to turn a fuck into a friend, fuck buddies really walked a line that he wasn't sure Ana would let Remington cross without a fight.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to suddenly run off and elope" Remington said rolling his eyes, sipping at his coffee to try and hide the smile that seemed to remain at the thought of the funny man he had met on the dating app.

"Just make sure you keep it friends, or fuck. Not both, that is relationship territory right there" Emerson added, obviously under the impression that Remington's new friend was a woman. But Remington would not find himself a new girlfriend if he did happen to ever sleep with NaNaBatman, no this was one friend to fuck relationship Remington did not have to worry about threatening his relationship with Ana. No, he had her full permission to do as he pleased as long as it was with men and NaNaBatman was definitely all man.

"I hear you, I do. But trust me, I'm not getting a new girlfriend any time soon" and Remington really wanted to keep the one he currently had for as long as he possibly could. He wasn't about to fuck something up this long lasting and this good for him just chasing a quick orgasm or a piece of arm candy on tour. No groupie could compare to what he already had.

"Alright, I trust you. But just try to keep it in mind, okay? I don't want to have to say I told you so in the future" Emerson untangled himself from Remington and moved to go and pack up his things with the leftovers of the bottle of kombucha Remington had given him in hand. Remington could see a slight limp in his step and a small pit of worry pooled in his gut for his brother's physical health. He would have to make a mental note to force him to take it easy if his injuries did not get better any time soon.

With a sigh, Remington hauled himself up out of his comfortable spot and wobbled his way back to his own room to pack, sipping his coffee and feeling the warmth of it pool in his belly pleasantly. By the time he had packed away his clothes (and the mask he had purchased) he had began to feel a little more human, the coffee doing its job at waking up his body and mind enough that he no longer felt like a walking corpse.

"Hey Emerson!?" Sebastian's voice called down the hall while Remington was packing, loud and much more energetic than Remington could have mustered himself in that moment.

"What do you want!?" Emerson screeched right back, the two men seemingly deciding to just yell across the house than actually go and speak in person.

"Have you seen my red shirt anywhere, I can't find it!" Sebastian could be heard rummaging through his things for that particular item of clothing and Remington swallowed thickly, panic rising in his throat.

"Have you looked in your suitcase!?" Emerson sounded so done with Sebastian, like a mother babying a child, but instead it was a brother having to babysit a drunken brother.

"Yes! It's not there!" Sebastian called back again, and Remington could hear him unzip his suitcase to actually look, clearly having had not done the thing he just said he had done prior.

The shouting across the halls had Remington wincing, he knew exactly where the shirt was, it was the very same shirt he had worn last night, the same shirt he had gotten a blowjob in and likely smelled of sweat and semen.

_Shit._

Hearing Sebastian down the hall searching for the soiled shirt, Remington scurried to grab what he was looking for and proceeded to hurl it down the hall where it landed on a potted plant. Remington couldn't be found with it, it would lead to too many questions about why he needed it and even worse than that, having to explain the sex smell when Ana was very much in another country. No, hat evidence needed to get away from Remington  _now_.

"Found it!" Sebastian called in victory as he came across the shirt in the hall, picking it up and giving it a heavy sniff that made Remington wince guiltily, sorry his brother had to smell his adventure. Hopefully he was too drunk to notice the smell was not his own.

"Huh? When did I fuck in this shirt?" Remington heard Sebastian query to himself, and then shrug it off entirely. Sometimes Remington was glad that Sebastian didn't question things too much, his drunk memory gaps well and truly saving his bacon this time.

Sighing in relief, Remington flopped back against the plush rug on the floor, rubbing his face.  _That was close_ , he thought to himself,  _too close_ , he would have to make sure he didn't pull anything else that might force him to have the sexuality conversation with his brothers and band members, or worse, garner the attention of the press before Remington was ready to deal with all of that.

Reaching for his phone, Remington immediately opened the Tinder app, wanting to speak to NaNaBatman and share the stupidity of nearly getting found out with the one person he knew would not care that Remington Leith was still in the closet, because he had no idea he  _was_ Remington Leith. 

s **o my bro nearly found out Im not as straight as he thinks I am**

**Oh**

**You're still in the closet?**

**mostly**

**still got one foot in**

**not sure how to break it to everyone so I just havent**

**What happened?**

**borrowed my bros shirt 4 the party**

**I maaaay have jizzed on it**

**might not be mine tho...**

**lol**

**Do you had a good time at the party then?**

**if gettin drugged and blown is a good time**

**then yes**

**Nice, glad I could help you out**

**So what happened?**

**he was lookin for his shirt**

**forgot I had it**

**panicked af**

**So what did you do?**

**disposed of the evidence**

**How very serial killer of you**

**i will take that as a compliment :)**

**So everything okay now? Your secret is safe?**

**for now yeah**

**Be careful Doc, when you come out I hope it goes well**

**thx Batman <3**

Honestly that was the nicest thing he could have hoped for from someone finding out he was still in the closet. Ana knew, but that wasn't because he had told her, she was just observant and the fact that Remington had agreed to sleep with men was like a mini coming out for him. But telling his brothers? His mother? His band mates and friends? Letting them know he was bisexual, was a bit much for him to handle. Plus he didn't want to explain why he was in a straight relationship if he liked men. It was easier to just pretend he was straight at least outside of the bedroom.

The fact that NaNaBatman didn't even question him simply made Remington feel like he could trust this man. He was funny, kind, adventurous, sexy and loved animals. Remington definitely approved of the man, he was exactly the outlet he needed for his overworked, undersexed mind. He was a keeper that was for sure.

That should have set off alarm bells but simply because this was a man and not a woman had Remington thinking he could have a friendship and something more sexual with him; Emerson was right, it  _was_  dangerous territory but instead of a girlfriend this sort of thing could easily result in Remington getting a _boyfriend_.

That's what sex and friendship was, and Ana had definitely disapproved of catching feelings, but had he actually caught feelings or was he just enjoying the stupidly cute conversations with an underlying tone of sexual attraction? Only time would tell if it bloomed into something more, hopefully Remington would be able to nip it in the bud before that happened but honestly, he had spoke to NaNaBatman more in the last few days than he had with his girlfriend the entire time they had been in Europe. And Remington had not felt the same kind of nervous apprehension with him as he did calling her, no, NaNaBatman was a breath of fresh air and Ana was like walking on eggshells, careful not to say or do something would set her off of make her break up with him.

**Im flying home tonite**

**so if Im afk its cuz im on a plane**

**Nice, have a safe flight**

**Hey, actually**

**Would you like to meet up when you are back?**

**like a date?**

**More like two guys and good food**

**i dunno man**

**i might be busy with work**

**No worries, just a thought**

 

Had NaNaBatman just accepted a  _no_  to a date request and not thrown a tantrum like his masculinity had been personally assaulted like some of the man children that had contacted him previously on the app.

**wait**

**you wont be goin to warpedtour by any chance?**

**Funnily enough, yes I will**

Holy shit, was Remington really going to do this? Meet up with a guy he met on Tinder right around the time he would be performing and meeting fans? Well shit, he really wanted to.

**ok so**

**before the festival**

**would you like to meet at a cafe or smth nearby?**

By the time Remington had been called to start hauling his things into the uber that would take him to the airport he had made a date to hang out with NaNaBatman before the first bands started their sets. It was early morning and they would share a coffee and a meal in which Remington would inevitably have to explain who he was and what he was doing at Warped Tour. It made him nervous but every reaction so far told him it would be okay and the other man would take all of that with stride, or perhaps he was just wishfully thinking.

The trip back was as usual filled with very little hiccups even with a majority of them not in top shape and Sebastian and Daniel very drunk, it seemed like nothing was particularly difficult and ran as smooth as Remington could have hoped for. It meant that Remington could curl up against Emerson on the plan and sleep, dreaming about the excitement in his gut to go home and see his girlfriend, and the very new sensation of butterflies in his stomach at finally meeting his new friend in person. 

He was comfortable and happy, everything was finally looking up, he was making music, making new friends, going home, all of it left Remington smiling softly as he slept and a stark contrast to the bags under his eyes and the skinny frame that had tucked himself against Emerson, using the younger man as his own personal pillow and teddy bear. His life seemed good, and it was about time too.


End file.
